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Showing posts from November, 2017

Dear Handyman

Dear Handyman By Gerlie M. Uy Dear Handyman: I see you in this season's blinking lights: The last time, you wanted me to decorate your room, and instead of a pine tree, I churned out Mt. Kanlaon. You said it's my call so it's fine. I hear you in the carols: The last time, you bought all season's Cds in the music store because you would play them everyday. I taste you in the matured coco vinegar: The last ones, you placed in all glass bottles to mature. I can feel you in times of aloneness: The last time, you were in the white-walled room sipping the aloe juice as your last taste of luxury. I think of you in the frozen yogurt you were delightful about because it tastes like ice cream. I will always see you in the miracle plant once planted in a black bag we last bought at the store together. I will remember you in the pails of water, (You gathered them then from every drop from our faucet) in every nail an